solitary initation
Solitary initation
The journey between the worlds:
I see before me the tunnel of time. I project myself towards this place and am drawn down and down, back to before the dawn of Christendom in a land of emerald green and ageless beauty.
I am flying over rolling hills and moorlands, circling freely over forest and small hamlets of country folk, over manor and mere heading toward and inevitable destiny.
I slow and close the distance between my world and this. The timelessness of a winter’s night is silent; not even the sounds of hawk or the owl can be heard through the thickening pall. I descend.
Now I hear muffled sounds from the marshland below me. I come to ground level where mist is not so thick, but moving, steadily shape shifting as it swirls around the mire.
There! Just ahead, on horseback, holding high a lantern to pick a path through this desolate place, it is the horse and rider that I have been seeking.
I swoop slowly and land, as a mist, upon the horse’s rump.
We think of naught; we must not lose our thoughts upon any other theme than that of the following the almost imperceptible path through this empty place.
No life here. The lights of a thousand lost souls glint through the mist to remind us of our peril, but we hesitate not and heed not there warnings. My destiny burns within my soul and would destroy me were it not fulfilled.
I can see myself clearly by the lights of the lantern; outlined with the ravages of many a sleepless night, I am gaunt. My jaw twitches with effort, and my eyes are haunted by the dream. I am physically strong, cat like. I clench the lantern, vice like, in my hand. My clothing is simple: thronging criss—crossing the furs about my calves and woolen leggings as thick a mail about my things. My jerkin is the skin of a wolf snared in some past day and my cloak is russet and off heavy woven wool that hangs limply along the sides of my mount. I wear a hood of leather, but my hair lays in tangled rivulets down my back.
The length, thus far, of my journey lays heavily upon me, and my shoulders are bent forward with fatigue; but we may not stop until we are past this dreadful place.
Hour upon hour we move, well into the midnight, until at last the horse raises her head and snorts as she stumbles onto the grasslands. We travel slowly still until the rider is certain of our bearings, then we roar with triumph and we are off, running like the wind, as the plain thunders beneath us!
We slow as dawn creeps above the horizon in a washed out blur, the horse and rider, sweating at their efforts, breathe deeply at the sought. We come at length to a copse of trees into which we walk. We dismount and lead our beloved mare into the depths. There is a stream, cool and deep, at which we drink before we lead the horse to graze beneath the oaks and peer around, cautiously, to guess that none come here often; that we might have peace for a few hours during which we rest.
I know not why, but know it I do. That the rider wishes to be seen by no one, so we ride by night sand hide by day so that no one knows we are abroad.
We unsaddle the mare, crooning to her as we do, and rub her down with blanket from beneath the saddle. A smile crosses the riders face, and a look that stirs my soul with its intensity and passion. Our task done we proceed to prepare a small fire over which we roast potatoes and strip of dried meat. We draw a leather flask from our pouch from which we quaff deeply, the contents sweet and fiery. Having eaten of our simple meal, we stamp the fire and curl within the cloak to sleep away the day light hours.
And so I watch….
…At one point I rise above the trees and seek to ascertain our safety, for although the rider is furtive and afeared of notice, I ached for the quest, knowing it is also my own, and my compassion reaches out to the strength within our sleeping form who would do no harm without good cause. I know I would rouse us should danger approach, so I fear not.
I return to find us turning about restless in our sleep, the dream causing much mumbling and sighing; and so it is for a few hours more until I am woken by my own shouts. Sweat beads upon my face, and I stand and remove my hood and cloak, and walk to the stream to wash myself, and so lose the dreaming. Light the fire and draw my pouch a large cup that I have filled from the stream. I brew a draught of strong herbs to help me to wakefulness for the long night ahead.
My journey will be done, thus far, on this night—at least where riding is concerned. The journey of the rest of my life is just beginning, the end from which is assured in my mind. There is no turning back from what I so earnestly seek but what ventures will befall me between the present moment and some eventual death.
I stamp the fire and cover its remains with dirt and brambles so that none may know that any have passed this way. I call to my horse and she comes from her grazing by the stream. I saddle her and attaché my pouch to my belt. I don hood and cloak, and mount. We move slowly through in the direction of the setting sun. We reach the edge of the woods and wait.
When the night is black, I ride; hour upon hour do I ride. This night is clear and I watch the stars for a bearing. Sometimes I walk the horse, sometimes it almost seem she flies. Rising behind me the moon glows full and high, lighting the way.
Ahead I see monolithic rocks rising to the night sky and the mist of the ocean reaches all about us. The tang off salt is in the rider’s nose and I see my nostril flare and my eyes widen with that same unseeing passion. We approach the cliffs and I hear the roaring waves thrashing upon the rocks below as if relentlessly drawing all within themselves. A wild place is this! I see a vast expanse of inky blackness within each rock’s shadow, which is also the sea over which the moon glows, causing a pathway between her-self and the things beneath the waters.
I stop to light the lantern for the path is rough and the mare troubles with each step. I sigh and lay my head upon my arm before raising myself straight with in the saddle. “It is now,” I whisper, “we wait and seek no more! As known, I have arrived!”I look ahead to a rocky outcrop like a finger upon the sea.
I ride hard then, sparks flying from the horse’s hoofs upon the granite way. As we approach the peninsula. I see a faint glow, as if from another lantern. I slow down now, and throw my own light over the cliff. I am wary and seek to approach unseen. I dismount and walk toward the glow. I see a small cottage almost buried within the overhang off the cliffs, like a tiny fortress against the winds and sea. A lonelier spot I have ever known.
The rider’s face is set like some stone and I cannot perceive what thoughts veil within. We walk with dignity as if to our death.
I come at length to the door, of massive proportion compared to the size of the cottage. I hesitate not but bang a fist against it, a sigh upon cold lips. There is a wait, then a woman’s voice calls beyond the door, “who comes?”
“I am called (your ritual name),”I shout. There is a laugh from within and the door is swung wide. There stands a small woman dressed in male attire, with wild copper hair cascading down her back.
“You are doubly welcome, (name), and thrice! We have waited long for you!”
“I knew it to be true!” I replied although I smiled not. “Was it you who called me here?”
“It was your own dream,(name), and not of our doing. Enter I shall tether the mount and see her well.”
“What name have you?” I ask, without moving; but she just smiles and shakes her head and again bids me to enter.
The room is dark save for the lantern in the window and the fire hearth. I see that only the first cottage is man-hewn and that the rest is of solid rock formed from a chair beside the fire. Straight of frame and as tall as a elm, but with the whiteness of hair to tell of great age, that fall to shoulders that show no stoop, hallowed with fire glow. He wears a robe of heavy dove gray wool, and as he moves towards me he smiles. I see great love in the smile, but as I look into his eyes I flinch as their blackness and depths. There is unfathomable power within them as though they have seen the passing of time from it’s very conception and had learned from the travel all that had been there to learn.
“I’ve missed you,(name)! Blessed be!” he says, as though he knows me well. He takes my arm and leads me to stand before the fire. “We have known that you would come.” He laughs with obvious glee.
“Who is the woman? By all the gods who are you?” I demand, as, although this whole thing excites me, I fear it is also and am tired of the mystery that has haunted me waking and sleeping.
“She is who I am, and who you are to become!” he replies.
“Her name?”
“Call her (a name from myth with which you resonate), and she will answer you!”
“(The same name from myth) is the one of the names that I am known to be, child.”
“And why am I here?” I ask, hoping for confirmation of my yearning.
“To learn, (name), the secrets of life and fire! To be at one with her and mold tomorrow with all yesterdays!” he says.
“What must I do?” I ask.
Show me the ritual..
Ritual:
You will return, then, to the place of your circle and proceed with the rite. Refer to your book of shadows or have it written down on paper and view if necessary. Go deosil about your circle and light all the candle, then the incense, consecrate the water with your athame, making the sign of the pentagram in it. Consecrate the salt, likewise and add to water.
Now stand and, beginning at the gate of earth, hold aloft your pentacle and bear it about your circle, leaving it at the gate once you have returned there. Do likewise to the gate of Air, with the incense; at the gate of fire both the black and white candle of duality (that you have on your altar); and from the gate of water with the consecrated water, sprinkling as you walk your circle.
Return to the altar, raise your dagger aloft and say:
I, (name) in this place which is not a place,
And is this time which is not a time,
Do give my most solemn and sacred oath
That I will abide by my chosen path
And will fulfill the dance of my destiny
Without complaint,
Knowing it to be the way of the goddess
And which I call my goddess
And that which I call god!
I shall keep silent all things entrusted to me by the gods
And by those who seek silence of me,
In the true nature of priestess (priest)!
I hereby take upon myself the life of witch
And to gather here
That my name is (name)!
Now take the pentagram necklace from the altar, go deosil about your circle, and holdup to each gate way saying:
Earth, I call to you
Great guardian of the gate of Earth!
I hold before you the symbol of my initiation!
Acknowledge me,
For I am (name),
Priestess (priest) and witch!
Place it momentarily on the pentacle to infuse with the power of Earth.
Air, I call to you
Great guardian of the gate of Air!
I hold before you the symbol of my initiation!
Acknowledge me,
For I am (name),
Priestess (priest) and witch!
Hold the pentacle within the smoke of the incense for a moment to infuse it with the power of air.
Fire, I call to you
Great guardian of the gate of Fire!
I hold before you the symbol of my initiation!
Acknowledge me,
For I am (name),
Priestess (priest) and witch!
Pass the amulet through the flames to charge it with the power of Fire.
Water, I call to you
Great guardian of the gate of Water!
I hold before you the symbol of my initiation!
Acknowledge me,
For I am (name),
Priestess (priest) and witch!
Dip the amulet into the consecrated water to charge it with the power of water.
Return to your altar and drop the pentacle necklace over your head.
Take up the athame and place the blade, oh, so sensually, into the wine ( or juice) in your chalice and say:
Power and passion, the way of the art;
Lover and lover as goddess and god,
United and blessed, the blood of the vine,
Cup and athame conjoined through desire
Sip, put a drop of this fluid on your finger and trace the pentagram on your forehead with it.
Stand and take the vial of sacred oil. Put a little on both feet saying
Blessed be these feet
Made to walk the path of the thrice born!
Touch your knees with the oil saying:
Blessed be these knees
Mad to kneel at the altar of all things!
Touch your genitals with the oil saying:
Blessed be the way of the creation of life!
Touch your chest saying:
Blessed this breast
Formed in beauty and strength!
Touch oil just above the and below your lips saying:
Blessed be these lips that speak truth;
By all names of goddess and god!
May I be blessed! Blessed be!
Finally you will dedicate to one of the faces of both goddess and god; name them, understanding that these names represent certain powers and influences that you seek to know and represent. Oath yourself to clarity and the refusal of betrayal of the way of the witch;
Drink deeply now from the cup, leaving a libation that you will pour onto the earth.
Take up your athame and circle from earth to air to fire to water. Fare welling each guardian and closing each gate. Write in the back of your book of shadows the ritual name that you have taken and the date of your initiation (and any other pertinent details).
Then open your circle using your athame to with drawl the force field; earth it as you have been taught. Put away all things of ritual.
Have a feast to ground your-self and celebrate.
The rite is done. Blessed be!
Before you go to sleep that night, and each night for a couple of weeks, repeat silently, or whispered, using your ritual name.
I am (name),
Priestess (priest) and witch!